The Chronicles Of The Council #1: The Sun's Tears

Chapter 45: Aebbé - Rain

"Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby." - Langston Hughes

Caith lies down on his back. Even though I highly doubt that the ground would be comparable to the soft mattresses I am used to, I join him. The fire's heat has been subdued to a comfortable orange glow emitted from the coal that keeps the biting cold at bay.

"At the beginning of time the heaven did not have many stars decorating it. The night was sparse and empty. My story might not seem at all significant in the grand scheme of stories collected under the heavens, but it is the story of a boy who still had stars in his eyes.

"Many moons ago a young boy lived on a farm with his family. Their farm was the largest in the region and the most fruitful. They had many workers living on the farm. There was no such thing as nobility in those days, but the boy and his family lived like kings on their farm, sharing their wealth with those dependent on them. The farm was beautiful and abundant. The boy's house was on a hill overlooking the farm. He could stand on his porch and see the sea of fruit trees, the pastures filled with sheep and the fields of vegetables.

"The boy was blissfully happy with his life, even though he had to work hard on the farm. His father and mother believed that they were equal to everyone working on their farm.

"He would wake before the sun woke and set to work with his daily tasks: milking the cows, collecting eggs and carrying water to his house. But when the sun rose, he stopped everything he was doing and stared at the sunrise with wide-eyed amazement. It seemed as if the sun was in competition with itself and tried to make its awakening more magical than the previous.

"One day the boy's father told him and his brother and sister that they had to leave their children alone on the farm for a few days as they had to go to a nearby town for business. The children didn't want to be left alone, but they dutifully helped their parents pack their cart.

"Days passed after their parents left. The boy grew anxious as the days stretched on. One morning he announced that he would be leaving to find his parents. His brother and sister argued with him, but finally they gave in and they left the farm hours later to trace their parents' footsteps."

Caith's eyes become faraway as he recounts the rest of his story. "What the boy didn't expect was to find the mangled bodies of his parents at the bottom of a nearby cliff. As the siblings mourned over the days-old corpses of Tryggvi and Vigdis of Smaller Hiraebev, a smoke started to rise in the distance. As the boy's brother struggled to tear him and his sister away from their grief, the air grew thick with smog. They arrived home to the ashes of their once beautiful and blessed farm. They struggled for years to rebuild their empire, and then everything changed yet again, but that is a story for another day."

The silent night stretches on between Caith and I. Sensing that now would not be the time to bombard him with questions, I reach out and gently place my fingertips on his upper arm. "Your story telling abilities are almost as abrupt as mine, but you have a good voice. That story sounds like something that should be part of The Book of Origins."

He folds his other hand snugly over my fingers resting on his arm. "Perhaps it should. It is, after all, where it all started."

*******

Caith wakes me more gentle than the previous time. He hands me an apple, the last of the bread, and a cube of sitam.

"What are you eating?"

"I ate the last of the fish and some sitam."

"We must get going. They are closing the distance."